Like the Devil With a Deal Pt. 02

This is Part Two of a three-part story. Everyone depicted here is over 18.

I felt someone shaking my shoulder.

Consciousness raced back in. I was in an unfamiliar bed. Everything smelled off. My body felt weirdly heavy, constrained, and I realized I was still wearing my clothes -- dress shoes and all.

My memories slowly leaked over me. I was at my co-worker Brian's house. Sleeping in his bedroom. I must have passed out at some point.

Another shake. My eyes popped open. I looked over at Kate, lying across from me. My wife was snoring in a cute, quiet way. A slight sleep smile played across her lips. But if Kate wasn't waking me up, then who was?

I rolled over, expecting to see Tara, my wife's younger sister. Or even Jesse, her husband. But, to my surprise, it was Vanessa, Brian's wife.

The beautiful blonde woman knelt by the side of the bed. Her golden hair ran rivulets over her shoulders. She had on the same plunging green dress from before and that strange, bronze necklace with the large, irregular chunks of smoky quartz. Her face was so perfectly formed, it seemed almost alien.

Vanessa left her hand resting on my shoulder, not unkindly. When she saw that she had my attention, she put a finger to her lips. I acknowledged her command, and she rolled her head -- the universal symbol for 'follow me.' Careful not to disturb my slumbering wife, I slid out of the bed and let Vanessa lead me out of the room.

Despite feeling like I'd been asleep for days, it was still nighttime. The hallway was dim, and my eyes struggled to adjust. The music was gone, and the house was eerily quiet. Despite the general quiets (and also somewhat because of it), I could hear the sounds of illicit activities. Moans and groans. Gasps and cries. The rhythmic beats of headboards on walls.

For a moment, I thought back to my conversation with Brian a few days before about the kind of party he was hosting.

"This isn't your typical boring couple's night," Brian said, "There will be no brie or boardgames."

I raised an eyebrow, thinking of what Vanessa had told us over dinner a few weeks before about being 'in the lifestyle.' Was Brian really inviting us to one of those parties? Brian just laughed.

"No man, nothing like that," he said, "Look, will a few people end up doing stuff? Probably. But no one gets involved with anything they don't want to be a part of. Look, Nessa and I both think you're a lot of fun and we'd like to have more fun with you. That's all."

That's all, huh? If this was 'normal' I could only wonder about what Brian would consider to be a rager. I did not ever want to find out.

Once Vanessa took me into the hallway, I assumed that she would explain why she'd woken me up. Instead, the attractive woman simply grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. I let myself be led all the way to the far end of the hall.

I'll admit I didn't know how to feel in that moment. On the one hand, Vanessa was truly stunning and being the object of her attention was a thrill all its own. I might have followed her over a cliff if she wanted.

But that was the problem. To this point, letting Vanessa lead the way had been thrilling but also dangerous. She'd encouraged my innocent wife to participate in a strange circle jerk that ended with Kate getting a stranger's cum all over her face.

The fact that I continued to be twisted up about how I felt about that event (thrilled and dismayed, mostly) meant that I didn't have a good handle on what Vanessa was up to. In some ways, she seemed to have my best interests at heart. In others, she seemed to have her own agenda, my own feelings be damned. She flitted between filthy fairy godmother and kind-hearted devil so often that I could no longer recognize which persona she was playing.

Vanessa walked us back to the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. A few hours before, Tara and I had found Vanessa's husband, Brian, fucking another woman in that room. I could only imaging what I'd discover behind the door this time. I reminded myself that Kate was safely ensconced in the master bedroom behind me. One less shocking sight to worry about.

Again, Vanessa held a finger to her lips, staring at me pointedly. I was getting far too familiar with that gesture from her. I tried to speak, but she shook her head vigorously.

"You'll see," Vanessa whispered. Her sapphire eyes were wide with excitement. I remembered Kate told me that both women had done cocaine earlier that evening. I wondered if Vanessa had maybe indulged in a bit more. While her body was clearly in control, her ice blue orbs looked wild.

Vanessa gave me another look, one that clearly asked if I was going to abide by her rules. With no other options, and the curiosity grabbing hold of me by the cock, I motioned my agreement. The beautiful blonde nodded back and carefully cracked open the bedroom door.

As if no time had passed at all, I saw that Brian was still in that same room, in a remarkably similar position. Pumping away like a fucking automaton. But time had passed because there was a different woman under him this time.

It was Tara.

My wife's slim little sister lay back on the bed, her thin pink legs propped up on Brian's muscular shoulders. It was unnerving to see the cute redhead so exposed. I could see every bit of her body. Even sexier than I'd imagined.

I never thought I'd see Tara's cute, little tits. Bubblegum nipples swollen with desire. I never believed I'd see her hairless pussy, luridly spread wide by another man's member. I certainly never imagined I'd hear her amorous groans and grunts while she got pounded into pleasure.

The immediacy of the experience didn't come from just watching Tara having sex. It was how Brian was fucking her. Animal. Raw. The pretty redhead was getting used, like her body's only purpose was for taking dick. And she was clearly loving it. Lost in what looked like one long, rolling orgasm. Body shaking. Head lolled back. Green eyes wide and bright -- like her brain couldn't encompass what she was experiencing.

If Tara noticed the open door -- the people standing on the other side of it -- she didn't show it. She was locked in the universe of cock and cunt, captivated by her lover beyond conscious thought. I could have fired off an air horn and I doubt Tara would have even blinked.

Back in the hallway, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Vanessa was standing next to me, smiling proudly, like this was some strange art installation she had conceived and now completed. Suddenly, the circumstances of what I was watching, of where I was, collapsed over me and I raced from aroused to horrified.

This was Tara. My wife's adorable baby sister. The married woman who had unintentionally started all of this because she didn't want to experiment beyond her husband, was now laid lewdly in front of us, getting fucked like a slut by a stranger.

My urge to interrupt became overpowering. Vanessa must have sensed it, because she gripped my shoulder tighter. Dug her nails through my sweater and into my skin. The beautiful blonde's eyes went cold as she shook her head, 'no.' How did I keep ending up in these situations?

"That's my sister-in-law," I whispered harshly. "She's married, for God's sake."

"And this is her choice," Vanessa said. She tilted her head at me, like realizing something, herself. "But you have a choice, too."

At first, I didn't understand what she meant. Then, slowly, Vanessa dragged her hand down my chest, over my waist, and right to my crotch. I was achingly, embarrassingly hard. Of course. Vanessa gave a little giggle when she got to it.

"Tara just needed a little help to get going," Vanessa said, slowly caressing my cock through my khakis. "Now, let's see about helping you out, too."

The gorgeous woman undid my belt. I thought back to earlier in the evening when I'd been in almost the same position. Only that time I'd been standing by a door with Tara, watching Kate.

This was beyond deja vu. More like accidentally catching the same movie twice. Once again, I was seeing someone I cared about acting out of character with a strange man, while a beautiful woman I'd previously labeled as unattainable was very much attaining my dick.

"Oooo," Vanessa said, as she mapped the outline of my erection with her fingertips, "This is very nice."

I risked a look back at the bedroom. Brian and Tara continued to go at it, full speed. Like sex could be an infinite loop. There was none of the usual building crescendo, the standard rise and fall. Brian simply rutted into Tara, a perpetual plowing machine, as if nothing would ever stop him -- not even the laws of physics or the limits of biology.

As I was lulled to the soundtrack of my sister-in-law getting slammed, Vanessa unzipped my pants and began rubbing my bare dick. She gave me a pretty smile, turning on the full wattage. It was amazing, seeing this striking woman stroking my cock. And the look on her face told me I could have much more from her, if I desired.

But I couldn't tear my attention away from what was happening in front of me. Tara's pretty face screwed up with pleasure. The smatterings of freckles and sweat across her torso. Something about seeing my wife's little sister this way -- I felt a sickly mix of aroused and jealous. Angry and anxious. It made for an intoxicating cocktail, and I nearly choked as I greedily gulped it down.

Vanessa noticed, too. Clearly, she was used to being the center of attention. After all, a handjob from a hot blonde goddess like her was supposed to rank higher than a fuck from a regular, earthbound woman. But no matter what Vanessa did, it couldn't compete with seeing my petite sister-in-law getting banged on the bed.

Vanessa clearly noticed my lack of attention and let out an overdramatic sigh. She dropped my dick and shimmied up, straightening her dress. I braced for her to berate me. After all, you don't turn down the best of an attractive woman without getting the worst from her. Instead, however, Vanessa gave me a knowing grin, nodding as if she understood my dilemma. Almost empathetic. She took my hand and led me into the bedroom.

I could smell Tara's arousal now. Could see the little crinkles in the corners of her eyes as she endured her ecstasy. The strain in Brian's muscular arms as he aggressively thrust into Tara's tiny twat.

Vanessa reached over and gently tapped her husband on the shoulder. Impressively, Brian paused mid-stroke. He hung right on the precipice of burying himself in Tara again. It was the most astounding physical feat I'd seen from him so far.

Tara moaned and shook her head, restless. She blinked, as if waking from a dream.

"Oh, don't..." Tara stopped mid-thought when she saw me standing over her. Her emerald eyes went wide and her face, already red, flushed even deeper.

"Hey, babe, what's up?" Brian asked his wife, casual as anything.

"I think Andy here wants to say hi," Vanessa said, nodding meaningfully at the petite redhead lying prone on the bed like she was strawberry jelly, spread thin across a slice of bread.

"Hey, man," Brian said, giving me the universal guy nod. Still perched perilously above my sister-in-law's pussy.

"She looks like fun," Vanessa said, smiling at her husband.

"Oh yeah, she's great once you get her going," Brian said. His eyes drifted down to my crotch. "Hey, that's a great dick."

I looked down, shocked. In all the excitement, I hadn't realized that Vanessa had left my bare cock hanging out of my fly. Pointing fleshy and full at the action in front of me.

"I was going to try it out," Vanessa said, "But I think Andy has other ideas."

"That's cool," Brian said. He pulled his dick fully out of Tara with a loud, wet schlllllurp. The little redhead keened in something like sadness as he disconnected.

Brian turned and talked to us like it was nothing. As if we were having a totally normal get together in the bedroom, our genitalia just coincidentally hanging out. Curiosity got the better of me and I couldn't help but look down at my co-worker's crotch. Like the man, himself, Brian's dick was squat and thick. Is it wrong that I was gratified that he wasn't as big as me? Like that made a damn difference.

I felt eyes on me, and looked over. Tara was sitting up on the bed, staring doe-like. A strange combination of demure and desire. She saw me looking back and quickly moved her thin arm over her little breasts. As if I hadn't seen it all and so much more. As if her bare, hairless pussy wasn't still staring right at me, agape.

Tara opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. Like a fish, gasping for air. There was a wet, smacking sound and we both turned to see Brian and Vanessa making out next to us, like we weren't even there.

Vanessa wrapped her hand around her husband's cock. "Ooo, slippery," she said, excitedly.

I turned back to Tara, and she extended her arm, inviting me to pull her up. As soon as I helped her off the mattress, Brian and Vanessa fell back onto it. The muscular man had already gotten his blonde wife's green dress bunched up around her waist. Her body, like the rest of her, was stunning. For a moment, I felt a wave of regret over what I could have had for myself.

I noticed Tara was also watching the couple wistfully. Brian roughly shoved his cock into Vanessa's pussy and Tara gasped, almost like it was happening to her in that same moment. We both shared a strange, knowing look. I kept my grip on Tara's wrist and slowly pulled her out of the room. Brian and Vanessa didn't even pause as the door clicked behind us.

Tara ripped her hand away from mine as soon as we got into the hallway. I flinched, knowing that I was about to get a very different kind of tongue-lashing from my wife's little sister than the one she'd delivered earlier that evening. After all, what was it my business who she got busy with? Especially after everything else that had happened that night, I had a lot of nerve playing chaperone.

Instead, Tara didn't say a word. She just looked at me, like trying to get her bearings -- remind herself of where she was and how she'd gotten there. I became very aware of the fact that little Tara was stark naked, and my own hard dick was hanging out of my pants. I quickly tucked myself away, like that would make things more appropriate.

I tried to speak -- to apologize or explain or, I don't know, a hundred things -- but Tara shushed me like a naughty child. Instead, she spun around and headed down the stairs. Her pale ass bounced alluringly as she went. I didn't need to be told to follow; I went right after her like we were magnetized.

As I went, I wondered at why I felt so ashamed. After all, she was the one I'd caught fucking some guy she'd met that night, who was very much not her husband. Wasn't Tara the one who'd been embarrassed by Jesse's behavior? Wasn't she, indirectly, the reason we'd ended up at this porny party in the first place? Kate and I both had worked so hard to protect her, but she ended up doing it, herself, anyway.

And yet, I couldn't exactly feel blameless, either. After all, I'd let Tara suck me off. And I'd watched, worked over in every possible way, while Brian had taken her so completely. Worst of all, I'd let myself be consumed -- not by anger or sadness -- but by the desperate wish that Tara had chosen me, instead.

Tara traipsed down the stairs. It was quieter down here, but not empty. Every few feet, piles of people lay on the floor. Like they'd dropped right where they stood, mid-party. Some of them were slumbering, but others slithered around each other, roiling in uncontrolled lust. I couldn't see very well, it was too dark, but it seemed like many of them, awake or asleep, were mostly naked.

Tara took me from room to room like she'd lived there her whole life, deftly dodging the landmines of writhing bodies. We got to the living room. Here it was almost completely quiet. The TV was on, but it was showing snow. Someone nearby was snoring in a very not sexy way.

We hopped over a couple that looked like they'd passed out mid-fuck and sat down on the surprisingly available couch in the middle of the room. The cushions were hard as rocks and scratchy. I now understood why no one was sleeping there.

"Tara, I..."

"I know," the pretty redhead said. There was a bay window behind her, so I could see her surprisingly well. Her freckled skin was bluish in the thin light. "I really was heading home," Tara continued, "But then I passed by that door and... It wasn't what I wanted."

"What do you mean?"

"This is what I wanted," Tara said. She wrapped her skinny, arms around my neck and kissed me hard, on the lips.

Before I could take stock of what was happening, Tara's arms slipped from my neck and her fingers dexterously lifted my sweater over my head. I felt it then -- a pull as strong as undertow. A draw as undeniable as gravity.

I didn't justify or rationalize. I didn't consider at all that I was in someone else's house, breaking my marriage vows with my wife's sister, while my innocent partner slept undisturbed in a nearby bedroom. I didn't think at all. I acted. I let the moment overtake me without flailing or fighting. It washed over me and I willfully, gloriously, drowned.

I'd wanted Tara from the minute I met her. Kate had introduced us early in our relationship and I'd crushed so hard it had nearly cracked me. It wasn't that Tara was pretty (although she was). It had nothing to do with her personality (although I truly enjoyed my time with her). There was something visceral about that woman's hold on me. A chemical reaction that, as soon as I was exposed, left me addicted for life.

And here she was, lips pressed to mine, soaking me in her scent while she rapidly ripped off my clothes. I could no more pull away than I could strip off my own skin.

In seconds, my shirt was off. I reached over to start undoing Tara the same way. But, of course, she was already naked. My rough hands brushed her perky, pink breasts and both of us gasped. I felt Tara's urgency grow.

She moved down to undo my pants. Now both of us were naked on the couch, panting like we were midway through a marathon. We'd only begun to run.

Tara rolled forward and we kissed, sloppy and wet. Somehow it was so much more traitorous than touching each other's most private parts. Physical desire, you could rationalize that. Explain how the human body, made for reproduction, might drive the conscious mind into a marital mistake. But that kiss came straight from the heart. We weren't fooling around after a night of unfulfilled passions and too much alcohol. We liked each other. Our mouths pressed tight, sealing our choice with more than a symbol.

Tara danced her hands down my arms. Through my chest hair. My own digits grasped greedily at her little tits, taut with sharp nipples. So perky they seemed to float on my palms. Like cupping warm, fleshy clouds.

Our tongues wrapped around each other. Saliva slipping like two tributaries into a river of desire. I roiled in the heat of Tara's body as she pressed closer to me. Her nipples tickled at my chest. She wrapped hand back around my butt. Pulled me closer. Drew me in.

I felt the heat of her center drip onto my dick. When did we get this close? How did her legs wrap around my waist? Her red hair hung over me cool and slightly tickling.

With Kate, every choice I made was conscious. Every touch was part of a carefully planned expedition. No movement was initiated without careful consideration.

With Tara it was more like a brawl -- roaring around each other, every progression merely a confluence of our chaotic actions. Lusty and longing. Wild and out of control.

Tara pushed me by the shoulders till my bare back scratched against the stony cushions of the couch. She crawled up my legs. Her eyes bright and hungry. Mouth open. Body covered in pink blotches where she'd been kissed, grabbed, scratched.